Thursday, December 27, 2012

My Host Family (11/6/12)

Most of my blogs have been written
about the crazy experiences and cultural observations that I’ve gone through
during my time in Chuuk. I have drooled over the untouched beauty of tropics,
complained about the backwardness of society, and chronicled the daily hiccups
of happiness and confusion that have been my constant companions. These tidbits
of writing have given a decent overall picture of my life, but I have often
left out one extremely important element. I have focused on the things and places of Chuuk, but the part of these islands that truly make them special
are the people. The people of
Chuuk are undoubtedly unique amongst the varied cornucopia of cultures in the
world, and the relationships that I have forged with these people have come to
define my experience in Micronesia.

My assignment in Peace Corps was to
try to better the local community through education and development projects,
but I believe my influence can best be seen within the personal connections
that I have made with individuals. And while I have had a significant impact on
many peoples’ lives, the way that they have touched my soul and changed my
thoughts has far outweighed my supposed humanitarian efforts. When I am old and
grey, many of my memories will fade into obscurity and melt into a jumbled mess
of exaggerations and blank spots. When I look back to my time in Chuuk I will
most likely forget my lessons plans, my secondary projects, and the scenic
views; however the impressions of the people are forever burned into my
consciousness.

I could talk at length about the
cast of eccentric characters that have crossed my path and the quaint island
folk that inhabit my village, but instead I will concentrate only on the most
important ones. The people that have meant the most to me during the last two
years have unquestionably been the Joseph family. The Joseph’s have taken me
into their house and literally accepted me as a son in their family. I call my
host parents “mama” and “papa”, and refer to my siblings and cousins as
“brothers” and “sisters”. From the day that I stepped foot on the island I have
been showered with love, compassion and protection from my host family.

Many other volunteers in
Micronesia, and other Peace Corps placements around the world, have troublesome
situations with their local host families. Misunderstandings about money, lack
of privacy, cultural clashes, comfort levels and a variety of other factors
lead to a break down of relationships and an awkward tension dwells in the
household. To be honest, living with a host family worried me tremendously
before I arrived in Chuuk. The idea of a staying with a random family of people
in a poverty stricken hut for a couple of years just seemed weird and
uncomfortable. I thought I would rather live in an apartment with some
Americans and have my own space. Oh how wrong I was. My experience of living
with the Joseph’s has been the single most rewarding aspect of my service.

Family is a broad term in island
culture and encompasses a much larger group than we westerners traditionally
consider. The extended family or eterenges
spreads through half the houses in my village and connects everybody into a
cohesive system of sharing and love. Resources, children and work are shared
amongst these big families. As a result of these ill-defined boundaries of
nuclear families, my household has been home to a surprisingly large number of
people. Our rotating door policy of cousins and family members is a function of
the fact that my family is well respected, well educated and relatively well
off financially. There are three houses on my compound, but I am going to focus
primarily on the core group of people that have been under my roof for the
majority of the two years.

Approximately 30 different people
have taken residence in the jungle manor of Benisio Joseph over the last two
years. We have 9 permanent members and an alternating cast of characters that
flow in and out for random amounts of time. Our usual census count numbers
around 15 on average. Some stay for school, some stay for work, some stay for
fun, and some just want a good meal and a dry roof.

I will try to keep the descriptions
short and only give a quick sketch about this family that has become such a
special part of my life. Benisio is the official patriarch of our house and
assumes the unofficial role of patriarch for our village. He speaks good
English and has been the biggest catalyst for my success during my service.
Most of the projects that I have undertaken have sprung from his brain and I
have just been in the right place to bring them to fruition. He is passionate
about improving his community and bringing prosperity to the people of Chuuk.
He has acted as a mentor, language tutor, cultural advisor and intellectual
companion for me. Speaking to him is my escape from the doldrums of simple
Chuukese phrases and contemplative silence of daily life.

My host mother Mariana is an aging
schoolteacher that takes on the responsibility of caring for the multitudes of
tenants that stay under her roof. She cooks, cleans, washes and scrubs at all
hours of the day. Her soft but high-pitched voice commands the throngs of
screaming children and sets them all about their chores that make our circus
function. She is deeply concerned with my well being and devotes a ridiculous
amount of time to ensuring my comfort. It would be unthinkable for me to wash
my own clothes, scrape my own dish or cook my own rice. I can sense her
compassionate love for me in the warmth of her eyes and the eagerness of her
actions.

My host sister Marben is a
bilingual teacher with a growing batch of youngsters. She is wonderful in the
classroom and has served as a helpful go-between for the cultural differences
that I have struggled with. Her husband Kristino is the spitting image of a
high school jock settled down for a life of husbandly duties. When I first
arrived, an infant of theirs named Majen came into world but was soon after
adopted by cousins in Hawaii (adoption by family members is very common). They
just had another little girl named Krisma a few months ago who has
enthusiastically provided a soothing midnight rendition of Beethoven’s 5th
symphony performed by a melodious fusion of frenzied cries and yelps. Her
crying orchestra is sometimes accompanied by the maestro of bawling, the wizard
of whimpering, the illustrious virtuoso of temper tantrums. I refer to none
other than my toddler niece Kathryn. Despite her crying skills and mouth of
sugar-rotted teeth, this cherub-faced munchkin has brought me countless hours
of joy and laughter. If she keeps her mouth shut, she could be the poster child
for quintessential cuteness. I have been a significant part of her upbringing
and spent lots of time swinging her in the air, tickling her belly and sneaking
her bits of candy.Orinta is a
7-year-old girl with bundles of energy and an unwavering curiosity in
everything that I do. She is in a typical stage of childhood where toys, candy
and movies occupy the entire scope of her universe. Their oldest child of 11 years,
Kimberly (or Kimbo for short), is the apple in my eye and my shining light of
hope for Chuuk. She is the closest thing I have ever felt to having a child of
my own and my love for her exponentially grows each day I am with her. Her
flawless beauty, excitable charm and astute intellect are impossible to deny.
If my impact on Kimbo leads her to a thriving life of success and happiness,
then I will feel that my Peace Corps service and my influence on the world has
served its purpose.

My host brother BJ is also a
teacher and has been a link to the manly side of life in Chuuk. By following
his lead I have learned to fish, work, drink and chill just like a Chuukese
man. His son Ennet has been my faithful sidekick for the last two years. He
sticks to me like glue and mimics my every move. His explosive laughter and
willingness to explore the island have made my time here much more enjoyable.
That list of nine people about rounds out the constant group of Joseph
regulars, but many others have been here for large chunks of time and deserve a
little recognition.

Marino is my teenage cousin who has
taken on the role of friend and work companion. He is from another island, but
has spent most of the time here on Fefan. I still feel like I am 19 year old
kid, so we relate to each other pretty well. Ainer was my best friend for the
first year in Chuuk, but he moved out to the main island and my allegiance
shifted to Marino. Ainer was my mountain hiking guide and taught me all the
basic skills of how to survive as a man in Chuuk; opening coconuts, pounding
breadfruit, wielding a machete and jungle trekking. His mom Ainin was our cook,
babysitter and clothes washer for a while as well. After Ainin left, a young
widow named Rivey took over those responsibilities.She and her baby son Joen lived with us for several
months and brought a silent cheer to the environment in our house.

Since the Josephs are a family of
educators and have enough money to feed a few extra mouths, for decades they
have kept up the practice of serving as a home for students. Mayreen, Samery,
Matry, Ipeace, and Lulu are all girls who have contributed daily chores in
exchange for a loving household and positive atmosphere to assist in the
furthering of their education. Emiano is a bright-eyed teenager with ADHD to
the max that recently came into our house and raised the energy level about
eight octaves. He can fire a series of unrelated inquisitive questions at me
with machine gun rapidity and then suddenly leap up and seamlessly move into
another conversation.

Although the family in the other
large house on my compound isn’t officially part of my nuclear host family,
they are a big part of my daily life and also warrant a mention. Mama Anti is
the spry grandmother who rules our land with an iron first. She is almost 80
years and has haunting memories of the Japanese occupation in WWII. Her
hardcore Christian ethic coupled with the stubborn strength of a hardened
island matriarch make her a force to be reckoned with. Despite her age, she
skips down the muddy road twice a day to church, chops weeds with a machete,
brews crazy concoctions of local medicine and regales her grandchildren with
ancient legends of island myths. My uncle Benito is a teacher and current
principal of the school. He has been my best partner in impacting the education
system and has also become one of my closest friends. I talk to Benito about
anything and everything. His wife Tere takes care of their slew of children
Berency, Benter, Kimiana, Beatrize, Bere and Patterson (the last two just moved
to Guam). Each one of them are A+ students with angelic island faces, and I
treat them like nieces and nephews.

These people have carved out a
niche in my heart and mind that will remain forever. Outside of my real family
and closest friends, this group of Chuukese islanders have become the most
important people in the world to me. I owe them an immense debt of gratitude
for their unrelenting hospitality and love that they have shown me. My
relationship with his family is what will keep my connection alive with Chuuk
and ensure that I never lose touch with this monumental chapter in my life.